


Love, Kaidan.

by FireLordFrowny



Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Grief/Mourning, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-30
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-04-18 03:37:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 39
Words: 15,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4690685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireLordFrowny/pseuds/FireLordFrowny
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shepard.</p><p>You did it. Deep down, I think I knew you would. I knew you would either save humanity, or die trying. I just… didn’t think you would die succeeding. I didn’t think I would have to walk away from this without you."</p><p>The Reapers are gone. And perhaps it was a long time coming, but so is Commander Shepard. In the wake of all this monumental grief, and as humankind struggles to rebuild, Kaidan can't bring himself to accept that Shepard is gone for good this time. So Kaidan writes to him anyways.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. #1

Shepard.

You did it. Deep down, I think I knew you would. I knew you would either save humanity, or die trying. I just… didn’t think you would die succeeding. I didn’t think I would have to walk away from this without you. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me as a possibility. It’s selfish, I know, but part of me had taken solace in knowing that if the reapers won, at least I wouldn’t have to live without you. There’d have been comfort in dying with you.

Don’t get me wrong - I’m so incredibly grateful to you, and I don’t mean to sound as though I’d rather be dead. I would never dream of squandering your sacrifice by even thinking about such a thing. Everyone left in our world is alive because of you.

I keep thinking about that first time I bought you dinner. At Apollo’s. And how you said it would be nice to have someone to live for. Well, in the midst of all this loss and grief and trauma that I think would otherwise kill whatever is left of me, that’s what I’m doing. Living for you.

But I don’t think I can convince myself to go on if I go about life like you’re not here. Like you’re not with me somehow. So I guess that’s why I’m writing to you. It probably sounds silly. If you were next to me right now you’d probably laugh at me and call me a sap. You’d be right. But I don’t know how else I can remind myself to stay where I am. Alive. Along with the rest of humanity, a testament to your unyielding resolve.

I wish you were here.

With all the love in the world,

-Kaidan.

 


	2. #2

Shepard.

Things are rough.

Joker lost his whole family. I didn’t know what to say to him at all. I think I understood that there was nothing _to_ say. It’s awful, watching all of this. Watching soldiers come home to the worst news of their lives. Everyone thinks they’re prepared for it - they get here _expecting_ to find that people they love are gone forever, but the anguish hits them hard like they never saw it coming. I feel like hell, knowing that despite what we all fought for - what you died for - nothing can ever truly fix the damage done to our people.

Rebuilding seems impossible. No one even wants to think about it just yet. The smoke still hasn’t even settled. Things are still burning. People are still dying - illness, injuries… suicides… I’ve never seen anything so thoroughly broken as our world is right now.

I feel like I’ll die if I try to properly comprehend all this grief. It’s hard enough to live with my own pain. But seeing everyone - _literally everyone_ around me going through the same anguish… knowing that our grief is shared across solar systems… just thinking about it opens up this chasm in me, wide enough to swallow up the whole galaxy.

Still, I try to be a leader. I think it’s what you would do, if you were here. I heard about what happened on the Citadel after the Crucible didn’t fire. They say you were already dying by then. But Hackett radioed you. And you said, “What do you need me to do?”

And then you did it.

And you saved us all.

So who am I to give up now?

There’s something that needs to be done, and I struggle to find the resolve to do it, but I _do_ do it.

For you.

For humanity, yes, but mostly for you. After all - at this point, “Shepard” and “Humanity” sort of mean the same thing. Something strong. Something resilient. And eternal.

With every breath we take, I remember you.

I miss you.

Love,

-Kaidan.

 


	3. #3

My mother arrived today, Shepard.

She was upset that I hadn’t yet tried to find her, and I suppose she had the right to be. I was surprised by how guilty I _didn’t_ feel, though. The work being done here is enough to think about. If my thoughts strayed to my family for too long, I’d never be able to get anything done. I was productive when I thought only of you, and of what needed to be done. But now that mom is here - now that I’ve seen her, heard her voice, hugged her… there’s a whole new nature of weight on my shoulders.

She never heard anything new about my father. But I think I came to terms with him being dead months ago. And at the moment, mom is too thrilled that I’m alive to want to talk about anything else.

For the first time in all this, I feel lucky. So many people lost everything and everyone, and I get to have my mother again. She told me that when she heard you did not survive the war, she feared I hadn’t made it, either. She said, “I know how you were, about that man. Following him into hell even when he didn’t have a way out. Stupid!” You never met my mother, but I wish you could have. You would have loved her. She would have hated you. It would have been great. She’s this tiny, angry Ukrainian woman with an accent as thick as her heart is big. I’m looking at her right now - she’s stirring a pot of soup she’s making for a group of kids we’ve got here - and I can see in my mind’s eye, what she’d look like smacking you upside the head for not greeting everyone when you walk into a room. She’d tell you in broken English how stubborn you are, and lecture you about how the world doesn’t revolve around you. And I can see you smiling down at her. Man, you would get such a kick out of her.

I never told her about us. I didn’t exactly know what to say. I still don’t. There was never a good time to mention it. I think she knows, though. I think she’s always known how I’ve felt about you. In a lot of ways I think you were the last to know, really. There hasn’t been much of anything to look forward to lately, but now, one thing I’m eager for is finding the right moment to finally tell my mother how much I loved you.

Love,

-Kaidan.

 


	4. #4

Shepard.

There was a meteor shower tonight. The perseids. It was the first time in so long that the sky was clear. The Milky Way was a rare, bright streak across the sky, and I couldn’t stop thinking about all those long talks you and I had on the observation deck. It’s strange to remember us being up there. We kissed among those stars. We held each other. Made love. I feel like if I stare up at the sky long enough, I can feel you being that close to me again. You’d think that after everything we’ve been through up in space - after all the time we spent out there - that a sky like this from Earth would seem unextraordinary. But that isn’t the case. Somehow it’s even more magnificent. More humbling. Especially now, knowing that I may never go back.

I’m glad you’ll never have to know how much it hurts to lay here on Earth without you. What I wouldn’t give, just to know what it’s like to hold you on solid ground. I didn’t get to have you here, and I’m angry about it. I hate that each day without you just feels like something brand new the Reapers have taken from me. I hate that watching this meteor shower tonight is the closest I’ve felt to you since you left. It’s this quiet, heavy sort of anger that just sits on my chest with a weight that makes it hard to breathe, and there is nothing here for me to take it out on. I try to believe that the simple act of living should be enough of a “fuck you” to the Reapers for me to find comfort in, but it’s not. We’re missing out on so much, Shepard, and it isn’t fair.

I hope and pray that wherever you are, you’re more at peace than I am.

Love,

-Kaidan

 


	5. #5

My mom is adopting everyone.

All the orphans taking refuge in our camp are her sons and daughters now, and many of the younger ones even call her “mom.” ...Even Joker has slipped up once or twice. I grew up an only child, so it’s cool to have a bunch of little siblings.

It’s taken a while for me to see it, Shepard, and even longer for me to appreciate it, but a lot of what’s happening here is incredibly beautiful. We’re still in shambles, but it’s warming my heart to see everyone giving what they know how to give. Artists are creating monuments and relics. Writers are keeping records, and telling stories to the children. Chefs are cooking everyone’s meals. Teachers have set up small classes for anyone interested. Parents are helping to look after each other’s children. Soldiers and fighters and even gang members are working together to make sure everyone feels safe. Some people only know how to tell jokes, so they keep us all laughing. One woman has set up a non-denominational church. And perhaps most importantly, everyone seems so eager to learn how to do something new to help. This morning I saw an engineer teaching a painter, a nurse, and a fourteen year old girl how to make radios from salvaged parts. People are finding more and more reasons to go on every day. It’s inspiring.

I hope you can see from where you are that your sacrifice is not in vain. In this moment, I feel so proud to witness how humanity builds ourselves up from these ashes.

Love,

-Kaidan


	6. #6

Shepard.

I think the thing I regret more than anything else is that you and I never talked about faith. I don’t know what you believed in. Or didn’t believe in. I can’t stop thinking about what you felt you were resigning yourself to as you died - if you thought we’d see each other again someday, or that the time we had in life was all we’ll get. Wondering keeps me up at night. I wish that just once, I’d ever seen you pray. Or heard you say the words “God” or “Heaven.” Or even just… to know that you believed in souls. I’d feel less crazy, if you did. Sometimes I’m still not sure what I believe in. I look around at all these unmarked graves. Orphaned children. Hulking, metal corpses of these soulless beings that existed only to destroy us. This damaged, infertile land that they’ve left us with that may soon doom many of us to starve… I look around at all this and it’s so easy to want to turn my back on faith in anything good.

But if there was truly nothing good to have faith in… no one would even be alive anymore to experience doubt. I can sit here and write to the love of my life and question everything I believe in, _because_ there is benevolence in the universe.

Because of you.

Maybe you were a hand of God.

Maybe you, from the start, were meant to leave the way you did.

I don’t believe anyone else alive could have saved us.

An artist welded a sculpture of you from the remains of a reaper and erected it in the courtyard.

Last night I think I saw a man praying at it.

I’m not sure what that means.

Love,

-Kaidan

 


	7. #7

Shepard, I lost my mind today.

A man from another nearby camp was caught trying to steal our rations before sunrise. When the nightwatch seized him, he fought and yelled that “it’s what Commander Shepard would have done.”

...I must have beaten him within an inch of his life.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in a rage so blind. It took three soldiers to pull me off of him, and even then, I didn’t stop fighting against them until I heard my mother shout my name. I looked at the blood on my fists and walked away while the man was still writhing on the ground.

It shouldn’t surprise me, I know, but I can’t believe it’s come to this already. Spineless cowards hiding behind your name. I’ve been so caught up in this newfound sense of unity we all seem to have, that for a moment too long I forgot that such awful people exist.

I was asked to help decide what should be done with the would-be thief. Despite my outburst, the people here look up to me. They know that I knew you. And since we still don’t have any formal justice system, they wanted me to be in charge of this.

I asked myself what you would do.

I realize a lot of people have taken to asking themselves that lately. The problem is, none of _them_ knew you. And even I have trouble picking apart your mind. You, the man who had to face down the decision to doom an entire solar system to obliteration. You, who in mere seconds, have made choices that killed thousands, based only on the _hope_ that you could save thousands more. How naive of all of us to believe we could put ourselves in your shoes and gain anything from it but more uncertainty.

I decided to let the thief go. I don’t know if that’s what you would have done. But in the absence of a justice system, it didn’t feel right to punish him. The camp agreed to spare what rations we could, and sent them back to the neighboring settlement, along with the thief. I spoke with one of their leaders - once we establish a system of justice, we will call upon him to stand a proper trial.

It’s wrecking me inside right now, to see how even in the midst of all this passionate rebuilding, our people can still just as surely rip ourselves apart.

I think I am ashamed of beating that man.

Love,

-Kaidan

 


	8. #8

I dreamt of you last night. In a way, it was more like a nightmare.

It was one of those dreams that doesn’t make itself clear until moments after you’ve already woken up.

You were back. You were standing right in front of me and you said, “Sorry if I freaked you out back there.” And I said, “Back where?” And you said, “On Virmire.” It didn’t make any sense. But I didn’t think to question it. I just grabbed you and kissed you. Then we were in the grass, which should have been another red flag, because there _is_ no grass here. You smiled at me and asked me how my sister was doing. I said “She’s great.” But I don’t have a sister. I touched the scar on your face and said your name. Your real, _first_ name, which I don’t think I’ve ever even called you to your face before. Then you looked at me funny and said, “Who’s that?” I think I was about to explain, but then we were kissing again. And all those little things that had been so glaringly out-of-place were already forgotten. I could smell you and feel your heartbeat. And I just thought, thank God he’s back. He’s here. What a miracle. Thank God.

I woke up alone, of course. I felt like I’d just had my lungs torn out of my body. Even right now, I still feel like I’m missing something in my abdomen. It’s 0435 hours and I think maybe sitting out here and watching the sunrise will help put my head back on straight.

I feel sick and sad and heartbroken and hungry and honestly, right now it’s like the only thing I can convince myself to wholeheartedly do is sit here and dedicate myself to missing you.

When mom wakes up maybe I’ll see if I can convince her to make borshch. I could use some comfort food.

Love,

 **-** Kaidan


	9. #9

Shepard.

We talked about you over borshch and varenyky. It wasn’t quite like what mom used to make when I was a kid - we’re seriously lacking in ingredients, so she had to improvise a lot, but it hit the spot. For a moment I caught myself wishing you could have had some, but then I figured you probably would have hated it. Then mom would have been offended, and she never would have let you hear the end of it… yeah, on second thought, it’s better that you didn’t have any.

Mom always hoped I would fall for the housewife type. A tiny woman who was happy to cook and clean and raise children. And when she realized that I might not fall for a woman at all, she at least hoped it would be a tiny _man_ who was happy to cook and clean and raise children. So naturally, I’d wind up enamored with a six-foot-three marine with a deathwish.

I was right that she’d always known I had feelings for you, which was a relief, I guess. But she didn’t know we’d been together. Finding out that I lost my lover the way that I did broke her heart. She cried for you. Or for us, maybe. I wound up holding her, comforting her, while she told me how sorry she was. It seemed so ass-backwards. I should have been the one weeping like that. Part of me wanted to curl up in her arms and sob like a goddamn baby. But I couldn’t. Or, maybe I could have, but I didn’t.

She asked me to tell her about you, so I did.

I told her about the time you couldn’t fall asleep until I read you the manual for the new grenade launchers, and by the time I got to section 1C, you were knocked out with a smile on your face. I told her about what a bad dancer you were, and how if you got drunk enough, you’d embarrass yourself trying to flirt with uninterested women. And then when you sobered up, you’d swear up and down that it never happened. She asked if you were really as unpleasant as the media made you seem in the vids. I told her you were worse in a lot of ways, but the only way to see beyond the crass, mannerless asshole that was so visible to the world, was to sit down with you. Know you. Get you a little drunk and listen to you talk for an hour or two. Catch you when you were too exhausted to keep up the front. That was part of how anyone ever learned to love you.

...I told her that most people who got that far with you didn’t last very long afterwards.

She told me I was lucky. Not just to have loved you, but to have lived to tell her about it.

I hadn’t realized how much I’d been needing to talk about you this way. Like you were a person. Not a hero. People now only want to hear about how many reapers you killed. How many lives you saved. And that’s all well and good. But no one likes to hear about your bad dancing. Or your drunken flirting. Or the weird things that would lull you to sleep.

Talking to mom today made me realize that _those_ are the things I don’t ever want to forget about you, Shepard.

She says I’ll hold you in my heart forever. I can practically _see_ you rolling your eyes at how cheesy and fluffy that is. But I do hope she’s right.

Love,

-Kaidan

 


	10. #10

Solarian scientists arrived last night. It took them long enough to get here. Without the mass relays, star travel has become a hell of a lot more inconvenient. They’ve come to see if they can help us figure out what’s drying up our planet.

Earth hardly looks like Earth anymore. Plant life won’t proliferate. Water sources are becoming more and more scarce by the day. It’s like there’s something in the soil - something in the atmosphere that’s spreading. At first the phenomenon was limited to areas hit hardest by the Reapers. We figured it was some sort of side effect from their weaponry. But it’s become like a virus. All this dryness and infertility is spreading outwards. Camps further south have begun preemptive relocation. We might need to move next.

We’re scared.

The quiet consensus now is that this is a contingency plan of some kind. Maybe this is how Reapers made sure in the past that nothing survived their invasions. By poisoning the planets. The same effects are present on all the other worlds that were attacked, but it seems worse here. The reversal attempts on Thessia and even on Tuchanka have been successful so far, but none of the same efforts have been fruitful on Earth.

Unless we can come up with ways to reverse or circumvent the damage, or at least stop it from spreading, then we’re only looking at a decade or so before we run out of resources.

Some people are saying that we should just evacuate. They think what’s left of this place isn’t even worth fighting for anymore, and that just makes me want to rip my own hair out and scream. I don’t understand how these people can erect monuments of you on the same soil that they’re so content to just _abandon_. They’re shitting on _everything_ you died for, and I think I hate them for it.

Shepard, I know that this war was about so much more than just Earth and humanity. And I know that even if our world were to crumble to bits, the bigger picture is still that of a monumental victory. But I guess there’s just this selfish part of me that can’t help but feel like if _we_ lose _our_ planet, we may as well have outright lost the war.

Love,

-Kaidan


	11. #11

Shepard.

I’m not sure what I thought our lives would have been like if you’d survived.

I have this ridiculous image in my head of us doing things like… grocery shopping. House hunting. Inviting friends over for dinner. If we accept the multiverse theory as being true, then right now there’s a world where the Reapers never came, and you and I _are_ going grocery shopping. And we bought a house, and every now and then we throw awful little dinner parties with carrots and dip. There’s a world where we’re married.

I don’t even know if those are things you’d have wanted in this life. I’m left alone with all these painful hypotheticals. As much as I love to believe we’d have stayed together, there's no way I could know for sure. Maybe you were only in it for the ride - maybe being with me was just something you used to keep yourself grounded. I wouldn’t be upset if that was the case… heartbroken, yes, but not upset. I just wish I knew one way or the other.  

Sometimes I think you wouldn’t have been happy unless you were in the middle of a war. You always talked about how useless you felt on Earth. About how you didn’t know how to mow a lawn, or fix an air conditioner, and how awful you were with money. If you didn’t have a gun in your hands, you didn’t really know what to do with yourself. You were content at war. But you weren’t happy.

I think you could have learned to be content and happy with peace, if you ever had the chance.

...If we accept the multiverse theory, then I also have to believe that there’s a universe where the Reapers won. I think the Kaidan in that world was relieved that he didn’t have to live without you.

Love,

-Kaidan


	12. #12

I had another dream about you, Shepard.

I was teaching you how to make scrambled eggs in the kitchen on the Normandy. You’d say, “Like this?” And then you’d proceed to fuck it up in a new and inventive way each time. It was pathetic. And cute. And not too far off from what probably would have happened in real life. I woke up smiling for the first time in so long, and I kept laughing about it sporadically throughout the day. Mom was thrilled to see me in a better mood.

When Joker saw me giggling to myself like an idiot, he asked what was up, so I explained, and oh man, we _died_ laughing. He told me about a time he caught you eating a burnt grilled cheese sandwich, because evidently you’d been too proud to ask anyone for help. And so then I told him about how you nearly spent your entire adult life thinking that _broiling_ was just a mispronunciation of _boiling_.

So we just cackled for ages, reminiscing about how domestically inept you were.

It was nice. Even when it got hard to tell what was a laugh and what was a sob, it was nice.

Joker misses you more than he lets on.

Love,

-Kaidan.


	13. #13

Shepard.

There’s evidence that my father was processed. I feel so sick. I’ve been throwing up all day. My mother thinks I’ve just caught a stomach bug - I don’t think I can tell her the truth. I can’t tell her that the reason I can’t keep a damn thing down is because I can’t stop seeing dad turned into soup and pumped through tubes like sewage. Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised. But I let myself believe that he went down fighting and fell victim to gunfire or hellcanons or… anything. God, I could have lived with _anything else._

But this?

It isn’t even something I saw with my own eyes but I swear I’d stab myself right through my occipital lobe if I thought it might spare me the grief of just _imagining_ it.  

I don’t know how I’ll sleep.

Every time I start to believe that maybe I’ll be alright, Shepard, more blows just keep slamming into me. For so long I’ve been patiently waiting on good news from anyone about anything just to know that good news is still a thing that can happen for us here, but right now I don’t feel like there’s anything good enough to salve a wound like this.

I don’t know how I can keep holding myself together, and at the moment I don’t really have the will to try.

Love,

-Kaidan.


	14. #14

I'm feeling a little less sick today.

Mom only managed to save one picture of my father. It’s from before I was born, and he’s holding a puppy - our dog named Andy, that died when I was six or seven. And you can sort of see how much I look like him (my dad. Not our dog.) mostly around the nose and mouth. I have his hair, too. It’s funny… I never really remembered him having hair. For most of my life, he’d been damn near bald. I hope that doesn’t mean I’m going to go bald, too.

This picture is from over 30 years ago. Before the First Contact War. Before any of our kind knew that there was so much more in the universe to fear than we ever imagined. He looks so happy with his American Bulldog puppy, smiling at his girlfriend holding the camera. I know I should feel solace when I look at it. Right? It should remind me of home, and of safety and security. But no matter how hard I stare at it and try to memorize what his smile looks like, nothing I do erases the image I’ve made up of him in my head of him being terrified and in pain...

But I guess I am grateful to have anything at all to remember dad by. Most people here have nothing from those they loved. Mom and I even keep the photo of dad a secret because she’s afraid someone might try to destroy it out of jealousy. I try to tell her that she should have more faith in humankind than that, but I’m not always sure if I believe it myself. For the past few nights the photo has been under my pillow.

Somehow it’s the only way I can sleep.

Love,

-Kaidan

 


	15. #15

We got some good news last night, Shepard. It was a long time coming.

Researchers in Germany have figured out how to get potatoes to grow in the damaged soil. I don’t know why it’s _potatoes_ , specifically, and frankly I can’t be bothered to care. Shepard, I never thought I would see so many people this excited over a goddamned root, but here we are. There was celebrating. There were tears of joy. Evidently, tests still need to be done to make sure the crops are safe to eat, but just the thought of getting to eat something that hasn’t come out of a can or a vacuum-sealed package is enough to raise anyone’s spirits, right about now.

My mouth keeps watering because I keep thinking about a steaming hot baked potato. With sour cream and bacon and butter.

Shepard, I don’t even _like_ sour cream. But you can bet your ass that a huge dollop is going on my potato when I get one. And I’ll eat a second one in your honor, sans-sour cream. And a third, I suppose, in honor of whatever valiant hero might soon make it possible to eat potatoes again.

Joker and mom have already begun planning a Potato Feast. To their faces I’ve been telling them what a ridiculous idea it is, but I’m actually excited as hell.

It’s so nice to remember what excitement feels like. I needed this. Each and every one of us here needed this.

Love,

-Kaidan

 


	16. #16

Shepard, I saw the weirdest thing today.

Some kids were playing out in the courtyard, pointing finger-guns at each other and making “pew, pew” noises as they ran around. Then I guess when their first round was over and it was time for them to regroup, I heard one of them say, “It’s _my_ turn to be the Shepard!” But when the current Shepard objected, the other kid whined that he’d “been Kaidan three times already!” To make a long story short, they all got pretty embarrassed when they realized I was watching them. Evidently it’s not as “cool” to be me in their little game. One of them hung his head and said “Sorry, Major.” And after I told him not to worry about it, a girl asked me if I would play with them. They needed someone to be the Reaper. She said, “It should be you, because you’re tall.”

Sometimes I can’t tell how much kids really do or don’t understand about what’s happened. Do they _get_ that they’re survivors of a galactic-scale genocide? Do they realize what the Reapers even were, and that they’ve destroyed races before us? Do they _understand_ that “The Shepard” was a real man who saved real lives, and that you left behind someone who loved you to do it?

I talked to mom about it. She told me that kids understand much more than we realize - they just conceptualize it differently. She said what looks like a bizarre game about The Shepard and Reapers is more likely just the only way they know to make sense of all this. A coping mechanism, I guess. It makes sense.

I wonder what they’ll think of this when they’re grown. I wonder what they’ll tell their own kids about “The Shepard.”

 ****Love,

-Kaidan.


	17. #17

My brain snapped a few days ago.

I was standing guard while some new supplies were brought into the warehouse when one of the wheels on the metal carts gave out. It skidded against the concrete and made this god-awful screeching noise and suddenly I was diving for cover and shouting about Banshees and firing rounds into the walls and thank _god_ I didn’t hurt anybody. Between that and waking up sedated as hell in the infirmary, I don’t remember much. Just fear. Adrenaline. I’m told someone finally took me down with biotics.

They say I was asking for you. And no matter how many times they told me that you were dead and the war was over, I just kept asking. “Where’s Shepard?” “Does Shepard know I’m okay?” “You have to tell Shepard that the perimeter has been breached.” And god, as terrified as I know I was, it must have been so _nice_  to believe for a few traumatic hours that you were somewhere nearby.

For the past two days I’ve been under psychiatric care. It’s embarrassing. I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I do. I was the last person anyone expected to come unhinged like that. I mean, I’m not the first soldier here who’s had a breakdown. But somehow I’m the one who was never supposed to snap. They’re all so _surprised_. “What? Kaidan? Major Alenko? Really? Are you sure? _Him?_ ” You’d think that after everything they know I’ve been through, they’d allow me the fucking luxury of insanity. But instead, I get strange looks. I get people walking on eggshells all around me. I get people telling their children to “be careful around Major Alenko.”

There’s a good chance I’ll be classified as unfit for duty. There’s also a good chance we’re short-handed enough that they’ll keep me instated anyway.

I don’t even know what I want.

I think I just want to forget what the scream of a Banshee sounds like.

Love,

-Kaidan.

 


	18. #18

There was a suicide last night.

A kid snuck off to the warehouse and hung himself with bedsheets. His name was Will. He was fifteen years old. Last week I helped him figure out what to say to a girl he liked. A few days later I saw them holding hands. It was the most normal thing I’ve seen since the war ended. It was sweet. If someone had told me that the next time I saw that kid he’d be dangling from a forklift, I wouldn’t have believed them.

Someone had to break the news to Will’s mother, and I volunteered to do it. I think I just wanted to test myself. Make sure my emotions still work correctly. But I don’t think they do. I remember you telling me once that I was incredibly empathetic for a soldier. You said it was the thing you loved most about me - it helped keep your head on straight. But right now I’m not sure where all that empathy went. I looked that woman in the eye and told her, “your son hung himself in the warehouse.” You’d think I could have found a gentler way to say it, but if someone is being told that their kid is dead, does it even _matter_ how friendly the words sound? Would it have made a difference if I sat her down and took her hand and prefaced it all with some soft, tactfully worded introduction? It wouldn’t have made her boy any less dead.

But I don’t think I would have felt that way about it a year ago. I would have started out with “I have some bad news” or “I think you should sit down.” The words “I’m sorry” would have been in there somewhere.

My mom came and found me in the middle of the night. I’d only barely managed to fall asleep for once and suddenly she was grabbing me up in her arms and holding me tight, like she used to when I was a kid and I’d wake up from a nightmare. I asked her what was wrong. She just kept shushing me, rocking me… it took me a minute to realize she was crying. My Ukrainian isn’t as great as it used to be but I think she was begging me not to go anywhere. Asking me to stay strong. She said “please” a lot. And that she loves me.

She thinks it’s going to be me dangling from a forklift one of these days, and I can’t say I blame her for worrying. If Past Me was watching Present Me, he’d probably be worried, too.

I wish you were here, Shepard. I know I keep saying that, and it’s always true, but I don’t know how to make sense of this thing I’m feeling and… it just seems like a feeling you’d know more about than me.

Love,

-Kaidan.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much to everyone who's kept up with this endeavor so far - this project has wound up meaning a lot more to me than I ever planned, so each of you who takes the time to share the experience with me means the world to me. Shout out to Gabriel_JS and potionsmaster for you guys' continued lovely comments! <3 I love getting to hear from anyone who reads (and hopefully enjoys!) my work. 
> 
> Thank you all! 
> 
> Stay tuned - there's still more coming.


	19. #19

Shepard. 

This is the longest I’ve gone without writing to you. I just haven’t had much to say lately to anyone about anything. All the important things are still the same: You’re still gone. I still miss you. The earth is still brown and dry. 

The next time I write you I promise I will have more to say.

Love,

-Kaidan.


	20. #20

Shepard,

I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to talk to you again.

The camp has finally begun to look a bit more like a neighborhood than a camp - an apartment complex, a market, a warehouse, a park, and a community center at the heart of it all. It almost looks like something that might have existed before the Reapers came. Mom and Joker’s “Potato Feast” finally went down a few months ago. From an objective point of view, I guess you could say things are looking hopeful.

But I don’t know how I’ve gotten less optimistic as time has gone on. It’s a month shy of a year since you ended the war, and I remember feeling so  _ inspired _ in the wake of losing you. I remember being angry that no one was willing to fight as hard for the future of our planet as you did for the future of our galaxy. But now… now I guess I’m just tired, Shepard. Maybe all that drive and determination I felt was just what I needed to get through the shock of losing you - not to mention the shock of everything else that’s happened beyond that. And maybe now that the shock has dissipated, I’m just left with… with  _ reality,  _ I guess. And the reality is that there’s no grass anymore. The reality is that I haven’t eaten anything but miniature potatoes in three months, and the best thing that happens to me on any given day is when I manage to sleep without dreaming.

I think less now about making a future, and more about surviving the moment. It’s strange… I’ve watched everyone around me form into the close, supportive community I wanted us to be from the beginning, but I feel like I am just slipping further and further away from it all. 

I swear I’m trying, Shepard.

Love,

-Kaidan.


	21. #21

I dreamt that you were a husk. You were attacking Ash. She was trying to fight you off, and yelling at me to “take the shot, LT! Take the fucking shot!” but I couldn’t do it. I just stood there with my gun pointed at you and watched you rip her apart. I know husks weren’t really human, and I know they couldn’t be communicated with, let alone  _ reasoned _ with, but I kept shouting to you… “Listen to me, Shepard.” “I know you’re in there, Shepard.” “You can fight this, Shepard.” And I kept trying to talk you down, right up until the moment you turned on me and tore my literal heart right from out of my body. 

I’ve barely spoken to anyone all day. I think mom asked Joker to check up on me after she realized she wasn’t going to be able to get through to me.

Joker is a good friend. By now we’ve got a routine going. He asks, “another nightmare?” And I say, “yeah.” He asks, “about him?” and I nod. He asks, “Do you want to talk about it?” Usually I shake my head. But sometimes I start talking. 

Joker sometimes mentions how lucky he feels that he didn’t have to see too much of the war up-close. Save for that time the collectors invaded the Normandy, he didn’t have to witness husks ripping people’s faces off, or cannibals chowing down on each other, or watch a fellow soldier get brutalized by a banshee… so he doesn’t get the dreams so much. Or the nightmarish flashbacks. I mean sure, he’s got his own fair share of bullshit to live with, but he knows it’s not the same as what’s plaguing me. 

There was a time after all this that I would try to figure out what all these different dreams might mean, but this one…? Shepard, I don’t think I ever want to go to sleep again. I’m ashamed that my unconscious mind could even imagine something so horrible about you. I feel like I need to apologize. God, Shepard, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I dreamed something so ugly. 

Love,

-Kaidan.


	22. #22

You’re going to laugh when you hear this, Shepard. 

Mom and Joker have finally managed to talk me into attending one of the support group sessions held at the community center. They’re run by this young woman - Mora - who was studying for her doctorate in psychology at Northwestern University before her campus had to evacuate. Pretty much everyone here has gone to at least one meeting before, mom and Joker included. But I never went. I thought, I don’t need to sit in a room full of other sad people so we can all talk about how sad we are and call each other brave. As far as I’m concerned, I’m better off just writing to you. Talking to mom. Venting with Joker. But God, they insisted on this - they said they’re worried that I’m slipping too far away for them to be able to reel me back in alone. 

I finally conceded that maybe they’re right. This group therapy - excuse me -  _ support group _ thing was at least worth a shot. 

I felt like I was at an AA meeting. 

“Hi, I’m Kaidan.” 

“Hi, Kaidan.”

Everyone sat in a circle and Mora asked us to talk about one thing we wish people around us knew about our pain. One man - a cook - said he wishes people didn’t find him so easy to talk to. Everyone comes to him with their ills and problems and it makes it harder for him to deal with his own. He loves that people like talking to him, but he just wants to be left alone sometimes. A kid who’s maybe about 17 said she hates when others tell her how lucky she is. She watched her family get taken by marauders, and sometimes she wishes they’d taken her, too. Then an elderly woman of about my mom’s age talked about how much it hurts when she sees the few families here who have managed to survive and stay together. She feels guilty for feeling that way, and she wants to be happy for them. She said she wants people to understand why she can’t always smile at children, and that she isn’t bitter - just sad. 

Soon enough, I was the only one who hadn’t spoken yet. Everyone turned to look at me. Waiting. Mora reminded me that I didn’t have to say anything if I didn’t want to. And the whole time I was there, I really  _ hadn’t _ been planning to talk. I was mostly just there to put Mom and Joker’s hearts at rest for a bit. But I thought for a minute about the thing Mora had asked: What we wanted people to know or understand about our pain. 

I said, “I want everyone to stop asking me about Commander Shepard.” And before I knew it, I was ranting. 

I said that I wished people would quit trying to get war stories out of me. They want me to tell them about what you were like in battle. How many times you saved my life, or I saved yours. I said I wished people would understand that Commander Shepard is not a goddamned war story. And that the times I almost lost him - and the times I  _ did _ lose him - aren’t things I want to talk about over and over and over again. I said I wished people would realize that Commander Shepard was someone I loved, and that I want to be able to remember him in peace. 

I want to be able to remember you in peace. 

I don’t know if I’ll go back to the support group. But I guess I am glad I went. Realizing this thing, this one of many things that has been dragging me down so far… it might help. At least maybe now I can figure out where to start making things better for myself. Maybe. I don’t know. It’s something. So I’ll take it, I guess.

Love,

-Kaidan. 


	23. #23

There was a time when my first instinct upon feeling this low would be to pray. Pray to benevolence, to the future… to God. My family was never incredibly religious, but we always did have faith, and we always did believe in God. And I did know how to find comfort in prayer. As I got older, it became something I did less and less, but… it was always the first thing I remembered to do when… well, when I didn’t know what else to do. You know the saying - there are no atheists in foxholes. 

Over these past few months I’ve spent a lot of nights chanting to myself: God help me. God help me. God help me. Most of the time it felt like it was helping me hold onto something. Like it would keep me from spiraling out of control. But it feels less like prayer now, and more like… mumbling. 

I don’t want to stop believing in God, Shepard. I don’t know if that’s where I’m headed, but I do know that the part of me where faith lives doesn’t quite feel the same as it used to. 

I have to keep believing in God. Because I have to keep believing in Heaven. And I need to believe in Heaven because I need to know that that’s where you are. Where my father is. Where I’ll go, when it’s my turn. ...And I have to believe that I can’t get there the easy way. 

I know I need to stick this out - for mom, for Joker, and for all the people who look to me for guidance for no other reason than because I knew you. I guess I just wish I had it in me right now to stick this out for  _ myself.  _

Love, 

-Kaidan. 


	24. #24

I know I keep mentioning what a good friend Joker is. 

Last night he was getting in late from some sort of get-together (Joker likes to go to gatherings - he says spending time with people helps him keep a positive attitude) and he found me walking around outside the apartment building. I don’t know what I must have looked like. A mess, I guess, because the first thing he said to me was “dude, you look like ass.” He asked me what I was doing outside in the middle of the night and I told him I couldn’t sleep. 

He said, “Can’t? Or won’t?” 

I didn’t answer, but the look on my face must have been enough because he just sighed, patted me on the shoulder, and told me to come back inside with him. He lectured me all the way back up to his apartment. “You know you can’t keep doing this, Kaidan.” “Not sleeping is only going to make you feel worse in the long run.” “You’re not going to get better if you don’t take care of yourself.” “And for fuck’s sake, you’re a biotic! Keep it up with this sleep deprivation crap, and you’ll probably be dead by tomorrow!” 

We got up to his room and he turned to me and said, “You’re crashing with me tonight.” I asked him why I should do that and he told me that I’ve been spending too much time alone. And that if I’m really that scared to go to sleep, then maybe I’ll be less scared if there’s someone nearby who could wake me up and remind me that everything is alright. Then he said that if I complained about it, he’d tell my mom on me. And frankly, I was exhausted enough that I didn’t fight him on it. He told me I could share his bed - “I’d take the floor, but that would probably shatter my pelvis. So just try not to thrash in your sleep too much and everything should be cool.” 

I was laying there in the dark and staring up at the ceiling for maybe an hour, and Joker was already snoring. And then… well, I don’t really know what happened in my head but… shit, Shepard. I lost it. I just broke down, I guess. I was trying to hold it back, you know, because I didn’t want to bother Jeff - or maybe I was embarrassed, and I didn’t want him to see me sniffling and sobbing like a goddamn twelve year old. I don’t know. In any case, eventually heard him go, “Oh… damn.” And then he sighed. And then his arms were around me and he held me as tight as he could manage without hurting himself and I… I just cried. 

I thought he would go on about how he knows, he gets it, he understands, and all that  _ useless bullshit _ , for lack of better terminology. But he didn’t. He was quiet the whole time. Just holding me. And it was less like he was trying to comfort me, and more like he was keeping all my parts together. Like I could quit trying so hard to hold myself in one piece, because for the time being, at least, he would do it for me. 

The strange thing is, Shepard, that this was hardly the first time I’ve let myself fall apart. But it  _ was _ the first time I’ve let myself fall apart without feeling guilty, or weak, or ashamed. 

When I finally did fall asleep, I think I slept like a rock. No nightmares. No waking up in the middle of the night and not being able to get back to sleep. No uncontrollable urges to get out of bed and go for a walk and try to outpace all my demons. Just sleep. For once. 

When I woke up this morning - or rather, this afternoon - Joker had already eaten breakfast (hash browns, ketchup, and imitation eggs). When he saw that I was up, he threw a packet of disposable razors at me and told me to go “shave that thing off” of my face. 

By the time I got done with that, he had another plate of hash browns waiting for me. And while I ate, he told me that something needs to change in my life if I’m ever going to be alright. He said, “it’s okay that you think everything sucks, because it kinda does. But you have to  _ do _ something about it.” And he said that if all I can “do” at the moment is sleep at his place just to get some quality rest, well then, I should start there. 

I told him I wouldn’t want to impose. 

He threw ketchup packets at me and told me not to be a fucking idiot. Then he gave me the code to his apartment and said that if I ever need anything - to whine, rant, or just sleep - then I don’t even have to knock. He said, “and stop spending all your time alone.” and threatened to start dragging me to those get-togethers he goes to. 

Anyways, Shepard… I recap all this just to make the point that I don’t think I’d have even made it this far without him. Him, and mom. Sometimes it feels like they’re all I’ve got, and sometimes that doesn’t feel like enough. But every now and then Joker does something like this for me, and it’s always just the right push I needed to remember how to see a future for myself again.

Right now I feel like a weight is gone from my shoulders - or maybe not gone, but lightened - and I don’t know how long this feeling will last, but I know I am going to capitalize on it. 

Maybe tonight I’ll talk myself into going to one of Joker’s get-togethers.

Love,

-Kaidan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to everyone who continues to keep up with this endeavor. It means a lot to me, and I have such profound appreciation for everyone who takes the time to read my work. 
> 
> Kaidan has been in a hella dark place lately. :( But perhaps soon he'll start learning to let some light back into his life again.


	25. #25

Shepard,

Believe it or not, I really did tag along with Joker to one of those gatherings. It was just a handful of people - ten, fifteen or so - all sitting around in an apartment, talking, laughing, drinking… no one really gets too drunk, apparently, because it’s not like there’s a lot of alcohol to go around in the first place. And the only snacks were tater-tots and beef jerky (which I am fairly certain was not real beef, but I’m not about to investigate this claim). But no one really seemed to mind… mostly because I wound up eating half of it on my own. One guy kept on intermittently playing acoustic guitar the whole night - I think if you’d been there, Shepard, you would have snatched it from him and smashed it over his head and said, “what is this? A fucking college dorm?” ...I thought about doing it myself, to be perfectly honest. 

I didn’t say much the whole night, but it was good to be around people who were smiling for one reason or another. Joker was the life of the party, so-to-speak. It was difficult to see it when he used to spend most of his time in a cockpit, but he has this way of getting everyone around him to loosen up and have a good time. I think that’s why everyone here likes him so much. 

When he introduced me to everyone, I realized that while most folks here already know who I am, I hardly know _anybody._ I recognized Mora - the one who runs the support group meetings. Besides her, though, I couldn’t place any names. I mean, I’ve seen everyone’s face around once or twice, I’m sure, but beyond that, it’s like I’ve been living in a community full of strangers for almost a year. Meanwhile, Joker is on a first-name basis with everyone, _and_ calls my mom, “mom.” 

I think I’m jealous. God dammit. I’m definitely jealous. I wish I had the energy to at least pretend to be gregarious. Maybe I could have done more than sit on a sofa for three hours with the entire platter of tater tots on my lap and zone out and laugh at jokes that I only heard the punchline of. 

...I know I must sound a little pessimistic, but I swear I did have a good time. Or at least, it was one of the better times I’ve had here. It was good. It was… progress. I felt more like a person and less like a zombie. Joker did his best to keep me involved, and I did my best not to let his efforts go to waste.

I wound up leaving early to try and ward off an impending migraine. Joker called me a “party-pooper” and boo’d me as I left. But it was all in good fun. You know how he is.

My head hurts like hell now. But I think I did good today. You’d be proud of me, I hope.

Love,

-Kaidan.


	26. #26

Shepard.

Today I broke up a fight between two kids. They were playing that weird Shepard Versus Reapers game, and apparently the Reaper hit the Shepard in the eye with a rock. So the Shepard punched the Reaper in the face. Then the Reaper tackled the Shepard and they wailed on each other until I ran over to grab them up and pull them apart. Both of them were crying and just a bit bloodied, pointing at each other as they tried to explain what happened. 

I made them apologize to each other - first The Reaper, for hurting his friend, and then The Shepard, for not having chosen a better way to respond. I don’t know if that was the right way for me to solve the problem. Maybe you wouldn’t have had the Shepard apologize just for defending himself. Maybe I would have punched my hypothetical friend in the face, too, if he hit me in the eye with a rock. I don’t know. I wish the answer to our war had been as simple as having a grown-up march over and tell us all to apologize. 

Mom told me not to have an existential crisis over it. But I have existential crises over lots of things nowadays. Just yesterday I went on a long, contemplative monologue during breakfast about how scrambled eggs could be a metaphor for the cohesion of intelligent life. Don’t ask - I was still nursing a migraine. I don’t think I could explain it again if I tried. Maybe some other time... If I'm drunk enough.

Love,

-Kaidan.


	27. #27

Shepard. 

This Tuesday marks the one-year-anniversary of the day you died. 

Or, as the rest of the galaxy likes to call it, the day you won us the war. 

At the same time that people are gearing up to celebrate, they’re also planning memorials. I don’t think anyone knows how to feel. All I know how to feel right now is angry. Shepard, they’re calling it “Commander Warren Shepard Day.” By “They” I mean almost the entirety of Earth. I’ve been trying to talk as many people as I can out of it - make them believe that aside from “Warren Shepard Day” just sounding really damn lame, you’d have  _ hated  _ it.

I just want to make sure that the world you left behind is one you could have been happy in. And I don’t think I’m wrong for that. 

I keep thinking about that time you picked a fight with a restaurant owner until they took “Shepard’s Seaside Special” off the menu. To this day I don’t understand what you had against things being named after you. I’d always hoped for you to tell me about it someday. Maybe when I could finally ask without you getting upset. 

Joker keeps telling me that you wouldn’t want me to worry so much about this. I believe him. I’m trying to let it go. I mean, people are allowed to grieve and cope and commemorate however they like, right? I know I can’t rightfully ask the whole world to cater to me… to just take my word for it that you’d hate this thing. 

In a way, I guess it isn’t even about you anymore - and it damn sure isn’t about me. It’s about everyone who’s left, and they’re all just trying to get by. Same as me. Just like I know you want us all to do. 

Mom thinks I’m just looking for things to be angry about. I mean, you know me. I don't  _ like _ being angry - that emotion has only ever brought me shame. But she says staying angry keeps me from having to do the dirty-work of moving on. I don’t want her to be right, but she usually is.

In the meantime, Joker’s been trying to console me with the fact that they’ll probably change the name of this holiday a handful of times in the next few decades before they settle on something that has a nice ring to it. I’m going to put “Galaxy Liberation Day” in the suggestion box. 

Love,

-Kaidan.


	28. #28

The whole planet celebrated today. And most of the galaxy. There was laughing, dancing, hugging, crying… I stayed in for most of the day (too many lights, too much noise. You know how I get). I know I should have had the decency to show my face around at some of the festivities, but I just didn’t have it in me. So later in the evening joined some folks gathered by your statue in the courtyard. I worried that they might take it as another opportunity to accost me with questions and demands for stories about you, but for the most part I was left alone, aside from a few sympathetic hugs and handshakes and sad smiles. 

I was standing next to you and leaning on your shoulder while everyone shared stories. Sad ones and happy ones and in-between ones. And I was content to listen, for once. One woman talked about how when she saw the flash from the explosion on the Citadel, she thought she saw God. Someone else commented that maybe she did. 

As the night went on, one-by-one people started heading back inside - to their apartments, to work, to wherever. They all hugged me before they left. They said “thank you,” and I didn’t know what they were thanking me for, so I just nodded. Soon there was just me and Joker left. We had a beer or two, and poured one out for you. He asked if I wanted him to wait until I was ready to head back in - I told him to go on without me and that I just wanted to finish my beer outside. Truthfully, I wanted a minute alone with you. But I think he knew that.

I kept thinking about something mom said to me last week: That I don’t need to be angry to remember you, or to love you. And that moving on won’t mean forgetting you. I’m not quite sure how that works. But it started to make just a little bit of sense while I sat next to you tonight. Or maybe that was just the beers I had. I don’t know.

What I do know is that tonight I saw people take this horrible part of our history and use it as an excuse to be happy anyway. If I try hard enough, I can find something beautiful about that. Funny thing is, I don’t think Pre-War Kaidan would have had to try hard at all. 

I kissed you before I went back inside. The metal wasn’t as cold as I thought it would be. I am sure that there is a metaphor in there somewhere - It’s a lot like this whole celebration today, I guess. My lips, in a gesture of love, touching what’s left of the things that killed you.

Love, 

-Kaidan. 


	29. #29

Hey, Shepard. 

It was strange today, watching life go on normally after yesterday’s festivities. It’s even stranger that I can feel right about calling this way of life “normal” now. I don’t know why I’m so taken aback by it - it’s not like I expected everyone to celebrate forever. Maybe I thought there would be an afterglow - that it would take people a while to come down from the high. But today is like any other day. That’s probably a good thing in a lot of ways, but I’d have liked the chance for me to try to soak up a little more of the celebratory atmosphere than I was able to last night.

Maybe I’ll get it right next year. 

I stayed at Joker’s again yesterday and this morning he was on the sofa, with two lit candles burning on the coffee table. He said they were for his dad and his sister. Then he handed me the bag of tealights. So I lit two for you and my father. We sat there without saying anything until the candles burned out. It was nice, really. I think I’ll do it more often.

Love,

-Kaidan.


	30. #30

I had a long conversation with a scientist today - An exobotanist named Chanel. Her team arrived a few days ago to take samples of some of the surviving plant life in the area. It took me the better part of an hour to realize she’d been trying to flirt with me. The way she smiled, kept touching her hair, paying me compliments here and there... It was all stuff I know you would have picked up on right away, and you’d have flirted back like a champ. 

She was pretty. And smart. Really, she was the kind of girl you and I might have fought over years ago, however good-naturedly. You know - jabbing each other with our elbows, arguing about who saw her first... you’d insist that I wasn’t her type, and I’d probably balk at you and say something about how she most likely isn’t into cocky, borderlined suicidal maniacs, either. 

I know I should have been interested in her. Or at the very least, just  _ flattered _ by her interest in me. But I wasn’t. And the longer I talked to her, the more I wanted to just excuse myself and… I don’t know, go stare at a wall or lie face down on the ground or eat raw potatoes until I puke. 

I guess at some point the discomfort must have shown on my face, because she sighed and said, “I’m not getting anywhere, am I?” 

I told her that I was sorry. She smiled and shook her head and told me not to be. I told her that I’m still grieving someone. She told me that I didn’t need to explain myself to her. I didn’t know what else to say, so I guess I nodded. Then she changed the subject and we spent another fifteen minutes having a rather awkward chat about how weird imitation eggs taste until she finally made up an excuse to leave.

Women and men and dating aren’t things I’ve been thinking about at all. But now I’m wondering what dating even looks like nowadays. Where do people go for dinner? A romantic night at the rationing center? What sorts of gifts does anyone get for someone? “Here: I got you this… Goodwill pair of vintage Crocks from the early 2000s???” It must be horrible. I know mom is doing her very best not to show how anxious she is for me to “get back out there,” but all I can think about now is what an awful time I would’ve had trying to dote all over you in this mess. 

Love,

-Kaidan.


	31. #31

There’s been a bit more food to go around lately. Rations are still on the spare side, but we don’t have to live on just potatoes and vacuum-sealed shit anymore. We can have real meals now, even if it’s only a couple of times a week, and even if they’re not incredibly elaborate. 

I surprised Joker with dinner. Nothing  _ too _ special, but I wanted to do something to thank him for being there for me for the past year. I mean, he’s so busy making sure I keep my head on straight that sometimes I forget he lost as much as I did, if not more. Maybe that’s why he invests so much in me - it keeps him from having to think about his family. 

Or maybe he just cares about me.

Or maybe he’d do the same thing for anyone else. 

In any case, the look on his face when he walked into my apartment and saw dinner all set on the table had me feeling some kind of positive way that I haven’t felt in months. I guess I was happy to make someone else happy. He thanked me over and over again, and joked that I was trying too hard to woo him. While we ate he talked with his mouth full about how great it is to finally have real food. Neither of us said so, but I know we were both wishing there was any left over. 

I told him that next time I manage to gather all the right ingredients, I can cook for him again. He said, “Hell yeah. Fuck me up.” I told him it’s the least I could do after all he’s done for me, and he told me that he doesn’t need anything in return (but that he won’t turn anything down, either). He said we’re family. 

I guess that’s true of anyone who served with us on the Normandy, but there’s something about Joker and I both winding up here after the war, after suffering the losses we suffered… In a lot of ways think I feel closer to him than anyone else left in my life. I mean, there’s mom, of course, but… she’s mom. It’s different. You know? 

Sometimes I think about how he’s the only reason any of us got out of so much shit alive and in one piece. Knowing Jeff, you’d think he’d brag about being a war hero more often, but he hardly ever mentions it. I don’t know why that is. I don’t think there will ever be a good moment to ask. 

Anyways. Maybe Joker and I will make an occasion out of having dinner every now and then. In honor of the crew or something. It’ll be nice. 

Love,

-Kaidan. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been shit at responding to comments lately, but just know that I read each and every one of them and they all make me feel so happy! Thanks for reading! I hope y'all continue to enjoy. <3 <3 <3


	32. #32

Shepard…

I have feelings for Joker. 

That thing he said a few weeks ago about me “trying too hard to woo him”... I know he thought he was joking, but there was something to it. He’s been so good to me, and I guess it shouldn’t be a shock that it’s come to this.

I look at Joker, and I don’t want to look away. I can think about the pain I’ve been through without it having to hurt so badly. It’s like when I’m with him, somehow every awful thing that’s led to me being right here right now is really all okay in the end - it happened, I’m dealing with it, and it’s fine.  

...And then we’re apart, and I don’t feel that peace anymore.

And then we’re near each other again, and all is right with the world.  

Shepard, it’s awful. 

All I care to do is be near him. And when I  _ am _ near him, I want to be closer than I’m allowed. I want to remember what it feels like - to be in love, and to express it with my hands, my lips… 

God, this is a fucking catastrophe. 

You’re probably turning in your grave, figuratively speaking. 

Keeping my distance and behaving myself isn’t hard. After all - I did it for most of the time that I knew you. I never got to tell you this, Shepard, but the only reason I ever convinced myself to take a chance on you - to tell you how I felt without knowing what was what with you - was because in the worst case scenario of you being weirded out and me being humiliated, I knew I most likely wouldn’t have to live with the awkwardness for long (but in hindsight I wish to God that I’d have told you sooner).

But I don’t need to take a chance to know that I can’t have Jeff. It’s a shitty thing to have to accept, but I  _ do _ accept it. Honestly.

Mom thinks I should “at least talk to him” about it. But I’ve managed to go an impressive 37 years as a bisexual man without ever having to sit through the “ooh, sorry man, I’m not into dudes” talk. 

But as much of an emotional trainwreck as this is, Shepard, I realize there’s a  _ blessing _ in the midst of it all: I can fall in love again. 

I know that I’ve always had your blessing to do so, but I never thought it mattered, because I never thought I would be capable of it anyway. But I am. I  _ want _ it. That’s the astounding thing that I find a very real, very intense joy in: I can  _ want _ someone who isn’t you.

So maybe this means I can start opening my eyes again. Maybe I can look at people and see  _ people _ instead of just seeing Not You. Like how I look at Joker and see Joker. 

I know I’m not ready to  _ be with _ anyone yet, and maybe it’ll still be many more years before I’m there. But maybe that’s why my heart chose Joker this time - someone unavailable. Someone safe. I’ll have to get over him, however long that will take, but I’ll be alright.

This is very good news, Shepard. 

Short of you miraculously coming back to life, this is the greatest thing I could have ever hoped for since you died.

Love,

-Kaidan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're reading this, then thank you so much for bearing with me during my absence! School has been kicking my ass. :( But I'm finally graduating college this summer! Yay! :D 
> 
> I'll try to update twice or thrice between now and August when I graduate, but if that doesn't happen, I'll absolutely be back on the ball after graduation.
> 
> Thanks again, and I hope you continue to enjoy these letters with me!
> 
> This chapter, to me, is an especially important breakthrough for Kaidan, and will open the door for a much wider range of dynamics in his future development... but you'll just have to wait and see where that goes. ;)
> 
> Love,  
> -Frowny.


	33. #33

Things are growing here again, Shepard. 

For over a year this place has been brown, dry, and barren. But now, just out of the blue, clovers have begun to sprout at the bottom of a hill. Some kids found it and, not knowing any better, they played and trampled all over it. They came back with grass stains on their shoes, and when asked about it, they led us just a few hundred yards outside of town to a ravine, the bottom of which is now a lush bed of green. I’ve never seen so many grown-ass adults ready to cartwheel and somersault and run around barefoot - but we had to force ourselves to behave. 

The area has been cordoned off, and a team of researchers should be here by tomorrow.  With any luck, maybe we can start growing something edible here soon. Mom misses her gardens. I’m sure she’ll love to help care for some crops.  

The kids who ran through the clovers thought they were in trouble for it; they told me they were sorry - that they didn’t mean to “mess anything up,” and that they only wanted to play the same way they did before the reapers came. And hell if that’s not something we all can relate to. 

So, I managed to get permission to designate one of the more isolated patches of clover for “recreational use.” It sounds kind of hokey, I know, but people are really going for it. It’s only a small area - about one square meter - and folks have been signing up just for the opportunity to stand in it for a few seconds. Run their fingers through it. Some people even just want to smell it. No more than a handful of individuals are permitted to visit the area each day to prevent it from wearing down from overuse, so there’s a wait list queued up. Next Thursday is my turn. I can’t wait. 

Love, 

-Kaidan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! 
> 
> My deepest apologies for going AWOL for so long. I've had a lot on my plate, trying to tie up all these loose ends with my university. The good news: I've graduated! Yay! I'm not a student anymore! ...Now I'm just unemployed. :/ Anyways, expect updates a bit more regularly now. And if you're reading this, then thanks so much for bearing with me and sticking around! 
> 
> Love,  
> -Frowny


	34. #34

I think I’m going to kill Joker. And while I’m at it, I might have to get rid of my mom, too.

He called me last night - told me to come over ASAP. He gave me some bullshit about how he hurt himself in the shower: “don’t worry, it’s nothing serious, but I’d rather not be butt-ass naked when the medics get here, and I could use some help getting dressed.” And so of course,  _ of-fucking-course,  _ I dropped everything I was doing and rushed to his apartment, thinking I was gonna valiantly swoop in to his rescue like the goddamn war hero I am, but do you know what I found when I got there? 

A fully-clothed, completely unharmed Jeff Moreau. Standing in front of a decked-out dinner table, with candles and wine glasses and plates of what I recognized as mom’s recipes for olivier salad, pirozhki, and varennya. 

I was too confused to lose my shit the way I wanted to, which gave Joker enough time to head me off with: “I know you’re pissed, but your date is gonna be here any second.” 

I’m not sure what all I said after that, but I know I must have called him every name in the book, not all of which were in English. He started shuffling out the door, telling me that I’d “thank him later” and making sure I knew that mom’s the one who put him up to this. Just before he left he said, “and by the way… try and act like you knew about this all along and were down with it from the beginning.” 

Honestly, I had a good mind to just walk the fuck out of there and leave Joker with the awkward task of explaining to some poor girl or guy why their date bailed on them. But damn it, Shepard, the pirozhkis.  _ The pirozhkis!  _ They smelled too good. So I sat my ass down and waited.

It was only maybe a minute or two later that my “date” arrived. It was Mora - you know, the support group girl. She was all dressed up, smiling and shy as she sat across from me. She started talking - that nervous, overly-rehearsed-but-still-fucking-up kind of talking that can last inordinate amounts of time. She told me how happy she was that I agreed to see her, and apologized for being too shy to ask me herself, and insisted that she “would have worked up the guts to do it eventually.” She went on and on about the food: “I’ve never had Ukranian food before. Your mom cooked everything, right? That’s so nice of her. She seems so sweet. She had a lot of really nice things to say about you. I think it’s great when men are so close with their moms.” 

I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, which was fine, because I didn’t know what to say anyway. But after she rambled for another minute or two, she finally trailed to a stop and got this horrified look on her face as she realized: “Oh, my god. Jeff didn’t tell you about me.” 

I shrugged and told her that she could help me kick his ass later if she wanted. God, she was mortified. 

Evidently, Joker had fabricated an entire conversation between him and I, in which I told him to tell her that I’ve “had my eye on her” for months. He even introduced her to my mom, who subsequently came up with this horrible semi-blind date idea. 

Mora could hardly stop apologizing. She said this is what she gets for not having “put her big girl panties on” and “just asked me herself.” She said she was sorry for ruining my evening, said goodbye, and stood up to leave. 

I asked her to sit back down. 

We couldn’t let a perfectly delicious meal go to waste just because Joker is a jackass, right? And I mean… Mora is cute. You’d like her. 

So, we ate dinner. It was awkward. But nice enough, I’ll admit. We discussed how best to exact revenge on Jeff. I’ll update you on that when the time comes. 

Love,

-Kaidan. 


	35. #35

Hey, Shepard.

Today is Thursday. Remember what that meant? 

It was finally my turn to stand barefoot in the clover patch. I still haven’t stopped smiling. I feel like one with the Earth. I feel like I’ve experienced something divine. I feel like my life expectancy just went up by ten years. I mean, this whole fucked up post-galactic-genocide experience made lots of people realize all the things we take for granted, but it’s especially humbling to feel so moved by a bunch of  _ weeds.  _ I keep thinking about how angry my father would be if this stuff was growing in his lawn back home… I just wish he was here now, for the chance to appreciate it. 

Clovers.

Can you believe it, Shepard? 

_ Clovers.  _

They might even bloom soon. 

Love,

-Kaidan.


	36. #36

Shepard.

I had a one night stand.

It’s not something I’d ever done before, or even wanted to do.

I guess I was trying to loosen up - blow off some steam… maybe I let all mom’s pressure to “get back out there” get the better of me. I don’t know. Here I am, damn near 40 years old, and I didn’t know that sex could be so soulless. The last person I’d been with was you, and I wish I had kept it that way, if only until I found someone I actually gave a damn about. 

His name was Hugh, or… Hewitt or Herbert or something. I think his last name was Latin. I don’t remember. He was a nice enough guy. Friendly. Good-looking. He moved into town a month or two ago and opened up a bar - it’s only open on weekends from 9PM to midnight, since alcohol is still kind of a rare commodity. Anyway, I went in alone for a drink or two, and I told myself I was just looking to unwind. But maybe I meant to leave there with someone. 

So, we talked until late. Midnight came around and he told me I didn’t have to leave if I didn’t want to - he usually stays behind after closing for a few drinks himself, anyway. We kept chatting. Kept drinking. And given that I’m not an idiot, I knew what direction things were going in. When he asked if I wanted to finish the conversation at his place, I said, “Sure.” I think I might have been in his apartment for all of five seconds before clothes started coming off. 

I’ll spare you the details. But there wasn’t one moment throughout the whole encounter during which I felt like myself. Or felt  _ anything, _ for that matter. But I didn’t stop. I don’t know what I thought would change if I just kept going. I don’t know why it didn’t occur to me that I could have just gotten up, gotten dressed, and left.

Afterwards, he seemed way more satisfied than I did. But he either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. He wanted me to stay the rest of the night, but I couldn’t stand the thought of having to wake up next to this man whose name I couldn’t even remember. So I told him I had to get back home. He tried to talk me into staying. He said, “Aw, come on. You’re gonna leave me hangin,’ Kevin? Uh, Calvin? Uh-... Kaidan?” He facepalmed. Started apologizing. I managed to laugh and tell him not to worry about it, because I didn’t know his name, either. 

When I got back to my place, I showered until the water went cold. Climbed into bed. Tried to sleep. I tried to think about being with you, laying beside you, but… God, Shepard, the memories aren’t what they used to be. They’re not as clear, or as present… I used to be able to think about you and feel like I was just with you yesterday. But now it all seems so damn far away. And maybe it’s not all bad - maybe it’s the reason why I’ve been able to move on as much as I have, and I’m grateful for that. I’m so glad that I can finally think about you without feeling like dying. It’s just that I really needed you tonight, and finding that it’s not as easy to get a hold of you as it used to be has left me feeling lost. And empty. 

I ended up out in the courtyard at 3AM with a blanket, lying on the ground next to your statue, staring up at the sky. It was cloudy, but every now and then I got a decent glimpse of the stars. And I could remember the hum of the Normandy, and the view through the skylight above your bed. I remember how sometimes, after making love, we’d lay there and ignore Joker’s attempts to contact you via intercom. God, I remember that one time Edi outed us with: “I believe Commander Shepard and Major Alenko are preoccupied with post-coital bonding, Jeff.” 

So, that’s how I spent the rest of the night - lying on the ground outside like a drunk, trying to un-remember what it feels like to fuck a stranger. 

It didn’t work. I still remember. And it’s still making my stomach turn. I think I’d be happy to give up sex for the rest of my life, if it means never having to feel so empty ever again. 

I miss you in a brand new way tonight, Shepard. 

Love,

-Kaidan.


	37. #37

Shepard.

Last year, not a lot of people bothered with holidays, what with the world still being on fire and everything. There weren’t any resources, let alone the  _ time _ to put into celebrations or observances. Some people tried to host ceremonies, but participation was low. Especially in the military. If people did observe, they did so privately, or otherwise quietly.

But I guess this is the year that a lot of the world is deciding to get festive again. 

There are Hanukkah and Christmas decorations outside. Lights, figurines, colors, banners and all that. Mom used to love this stuff. She used to love anything sparkly and over-the-top, and she loved any excuse to get creative with interior design. Maybe she still does, but right now, she doesn’t even want to go outside at the risk of having to see any of it.

Mom’s upbringing wasn’t quite as religious as dad’s, but when I was growing up, every winter holiday season she’d have our house sparkling with stars, and blue, and silver, and I remember being small and helping her decorate. I remember her setting up the menorah, and when I was old enough, she’d hold my hand each night and help me light a candle. Dad would be nearby, watching, smiling, proud, I guess, that his wife and his son were bonding so closely in front of him, over something that meant more to them than I knew how to understand at the time. 

And mom always looked forward to it - a culmination of her love for creativity, dad’s faith, and their shared pride in me. And now there’s something enormous missing from that picture.

It’s weird to say it, but missing dad was almost  _ easier _ a year ago. I mean, there was so much else to do and think about and worry about besides grief. But right now, the only thing anyone is focused on doing is celebrating a family holiday, and… a lot of families aren’t whole anymore. 

I want to see mom decorate again. I want her to feel appreciated, and loved… I know dad always made her feel so special, when he’d watch her work and tell her how great the house looked, and how talented she is. And I just… I want her to be excited about it like she used to. 

Maybe, before the end of the season, I can talk her up enough to get her decorating again.  Maybe, if I can get her feeling like there are people depending on her to complete their first post-war holiday experience, she’ll get back in the spirit of things. Joker and Mora aren’t Jewish, but I think I’ll see if they wouldn’t mind rallying around her with me. It’d be good for all of us, probably. 

Happy Holidays, Shepard. 

Love,

-Kaidan.


	38. #38

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was written during the Holiday season, but I forgot to post it. :P Oops. Nevertheless, enjoy!

Mora invited us over for Christmas dinner today. I went over early to help with cooking. 

I didn’t really know much about the stuff we were making - she said they were old recipes, passed down from her family in the American southeast, and that she had to put in a special order for some of the ingredients - collard greens, yams, and blackberries to name a few. To be honest, it didn’t seem like she needed much help. Maybe she only asked me for a hand as an excuse to invite me over. Maybe I only agreed to help as an excuse to accept the invitation. In any case, I wound up mostly just watching while she worked. 

She said that after spending so much time with Joker, and me, and my mom, this is the first holiday season in over a decade that she’s felt like she had a family. 

Mora lost most of her family years before the war in a sky car accident. She’d only been a freshman in college when it happened, and she thinks losing her family so young was why she decided to become a therapist. She specializes in grief counseling. How fucking convenient, right? I mean, not convenient for her, but convenient for all the rest of us here. She says she likes being so important to the community, with her support group and all, but she didn’t feel like she “belonged” until Joker, and then my mom, and now me. 

That’s why she wanted to make dinner for us. She said, “You don’t have to think of it as ‘Christmas’ dinner, if you don’t want to. It’s Christmas dinner for me, but for you it’s mostly a ‘Thanks For Letting Me Into Your Family’ dinner.” 

She’s a fucking sweetheart, Shepard. 

You’d hate it. 

Love,

-Kaidan


	39. #39

I’m falling for Mora. 

She’s nothing like you. 

She smiles at children. When she thinks no one is listening, she sings. Badly. She isn’t very strong - sometimes she asks me to open jars or lift things for her. She frightens easily, and she’s scared of the dark (she told me her biggest secret is that she slept with a nightlight until she was 22). She’s scared of guns, doesn’t eat meat, and hates beer. She smiles when she looks at me… I think that’s the only thing she has in common with you. 

We’ve been around each other a lot more since Hanukkah, and nearly every day since she asked me over for Christmas dinner. And the more time I spend with her, the less I enjoy myself when she’s not around. I don’t know what to do, Shepard. It’s not like I don’t already know she has feelings for me. Or at least, I know she did a few months ago. You’d think it would be easy for me to broach the subject by now. I mean, I managed to ask  _ you _ out without even knowing for sure whether or not you were interested in men. Now here’s a woman who’s all but thrown herself at me, and I can’t even think of what to say to her, or when. 

I guess I’m afraid. 

Having feelings for Jeff was easy, in a way. He’s somebody I could love safely, from a distance, without having to realistically worry about what it would mean to choose to commit to someone who isn’t you. I remember feeling grateful that I can finally have those feelings about someone again. It’s still true, that I’m grateful. But I guess I hadn’t anticipated the fear that would come next. 

I talked to mom about it. I was worried she’d taunt and tease and start asking about grandkids. Instead, she told me that “the only way to move forward, is to move forward.” And that I’m never going to have the sort of life I deserve if I don’t let good things happen to me. She said that if I think Mora might be a good thing, then I should let her happen to me. She said that I’m “allowed to change my mind” if I want to. 

I guess that’s a good way to look at it. I mean, I don’t have to marry her… I just have to tell her how I feel. 

Soon. 

Or, eventually. 

There’s no war to put the pressure on me this time. 

Do me a favor while you’re up there, Shepard, and root for me. 

Love,

-Kaidan.

**Author's Note:**

> I made the mistake of playing Mass Effect ~just to see what all the hype was about~ and well... let's just say that this is the only story of ANY medium that has caused me to cry upon the ending. I've begun writing these as a way to cope with what these games put my poor soul through. 
> 
> I hope you've enjoyed everything so far.


End file.
